Life's Like a Jump Rope

Up, down, up, down...
Just when it feels like things are going well... crash and burn.
In the early months after DDay, it was mostly because every little thing set me off.  I was a wreck.  My pulse was NEVER below 100 beats per minute.  (I have donated blood 3 times in the last year and each time they commented on how fast my pulse was and almost ruled me out as a donor.)  Just about the time I would calm down to some semblance of normal, a song or a movie or a phrase or a sound would hit me wrong and I'd be a mess all over again.
Now I think it's other factors.
Sometimes I think it's "guarding" myself.  Ohh, things are nice, things are good, things are lovely ... SHIT - SHIELDS UP!  Sometimes I feel like finding any sort of joy again is a betrayal of my hurt and anger and disappointment, like if I let those go, I am somehow letting him get away with what he did.  Sometimes it's almost more like - I don't know - like hurt and pain and fear and frustration and disappointment are "normal" and anything outside of normal must be wrong.
In other words, most of the time the teeter totter crashing back to the ground is entirely my doing.  I not only allow it to happen, I very often make it happen.
Not all of it is my doing, though.  Some of it is entirely out of my control.  H hasn't been called in on certain types of work (read: he hasn't had to work with her) in a long, long time.  There have been communications from her office, but not from her, which is a relief.  But it's always, always a possibility, and every time he mentions related work, I stiffen and cringe.  At some point he is going to be called upon to work with her, and I don't know if I can handle it.
Also, there have been mysterious texts - not from her cell phone number - unless she's changed it, in fact, at least in one case from another woman H knows through work.  I nipped that whole thing in the bud by texting the woman from my Google Voice number and telling her to leave married men alone - and she has.  (Even though in her response text she insisted I had the wrong number.)
It fucking bugs the shit out of me that so many of his coworkers cheat and that so many of them know about the cheating and not only excuse or dismiss it, but often encourage or enable it.  Why??? Don't these guys realize what's going on?  Do they not understand the damage they are incurring or helping to incur?  I fucking hate the "good ole boy" system which protects these guys and left my husband's boss placating me with, "Oh yes, I know OW, I'll talk to her, I'll get her to back off," when in reality he should have been somehow reprimanding my H for getting PAID TO FUCK A SKANKY WHORE.  I can't tell you how much money (thousands, people... THOUSANDS) my husband was paid in overtime when he was supposedly "working" with this bitch.
I'm so tired of the ups and downs.  I'm so tired of the rage that bubbles back up to the surface and just will not let go.  I want things to work with my husband.  I want to move past this.  I want things to get better.  But how can they when the whole system is broken, when our whole society excuses this sort of behavior.  Everyone just acts like, "Well, you just have to get over this," and it irks me.  Maybe I do, but that doesn't mean I have to excuse it. It doesn't mean I have to accept this sort of behavior.
I just wish that the stupid bitch who helped create this situation would have to in SOME way suffer, but no.  Nope.  She got to go merrily on with her fucking perfect life without even batting an eyelash.
Meanwhile... life here...
 
Up.
Down.
Up.
down